


Gambit

by CrypticRise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Also for once Tony and Steve are more mature than Natasha and Bucky, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Ended up with romance, Eventually there will be porn I promise, Getting Together, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Feels, Unintentional Clint/Loki/Coulson, tried to write angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-26 00:43:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21365365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticRise/pseuds/CrypticRise
Summary: Steve is a detective with the NYPD working a case with the department’s newest civilian consultant, Tony Stark. Nothing is as it first seems, either with the case or with the billionaire genius.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts), [scifigrl47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifigrl47/gifts), [copperbadge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/gifts).

> Likely to be about ten chapters long.
> 
> Also dedicated to my favorite fanfic authors, if you're new to this fandom and somehow haven't come across their works, please go read everything they've written.

Steve signed the last of the evidence reports and left the manila folders stacked neatly on Hill's desk. Chief Fury will want to see them first thing in the morning, make sure that the police work was airtight. They had worked too hard to let Zola slip through bureaucratic cracks.  
  
The new DA was also due to finalize the state's filing. She would want to run through the files too. Natasha Romanov came packaged like a pin-up, pouty lips, slim waist and curves that dropped jaws. Her conviction rate was the highest in the state and anyone watching her pick apart the defense in that throaty husky voice, would easily see how she earned the moniker "Black Widow". A name she embraced with relish.  
  
_It was just as well she was on their side_.  
  
Working a crick in his neck, he looked around the mostly empty bullpen. The adrenaline from the last week had not yet dissipated and thrummed through his blood, making him restless. He'd sent the team ahead to Bucky's, promising to stop by for one. He regretted it. The thought _Stark will be there_ briefly flitted through his mind.  
  
Tony Stark, erstwhile genius, billionaire playboy and owner of Stark Industries, was NYPD's newest civilian consultant.  
  
About two weeks ago the leads that the task force had painstakingly unearthed, linking Zola to the horrific trail of mutilated bodies littering New York, started drying up. The networks and routes through which the nameless victims had been trafficked in to satisfy the horror Zola called science, had gone dark. The money trail wiped clean and the Department's information sources sucked back into the dark web.  
  
There was nothing in the Department's arsenal that could have kept up with the intricate web of bots wiping Zola's trail. As a favor to Chief Fury, Tony Stark had come on board to lend his proprietary tech. Steve already leading the task force, was roped into baby-sitting the wild card.  
  
They may as well have asked him to bottle lightning, toeing the line appeared to be antithesis to Stark’s DNA.  
  
Sighing Steve slipped his jacket on, checking the holster under his arm out of habit. The chill of the November air felt welcome after the heated station. Hands tucked deep into his pockets, Steve headed down the well-worn path to Bucky's, chin tucked to his chest in introspection.  
  
He was a man who valued his equanimity, but there was just something about Stark that scattered his balance. His brilliance was undeniable, as was the substantial part he had played in ensuring that Zola would be spending the rest of his life inside a supermax.  
  
But along with the brilliance, the man was also a dizzying mix of barbed sarcasm and innuendo. It left Steve floundering in completely new territory at every encounter.  
  
_Like this morning._ Steve willed the memory back into its box. The day had been long enough as it was without churning through the sequence of Stark initiated events that had culminated in the gut-wrenching sight of Zola forcefully holding Stark down on his knees. A pistol shoved into his mouth. More than the perverseness of the tableau, it had been the moment of sharp decision in Stark’s eyes when he heard Steve call his name out, that had left him feeling like he’d lost his footing in the dark.  
  
It lasted only seconds but Steve had seen it clearly, the moment Stark decided the wire had to be cut. _Fuck the consequences._ He had reacted with a fluidity of motion an engineer had no business executing, using a palm held device to blast Zola’s left kneecap while wrenching his face away from certain death.  
  
Steve turned over the moment in his mind, worrying at it like a loose tooth. What had possessed the billionaire? What had passed through his mind? Why did he have that infernal device to begin with?  
  
In fact based on everything he had observed of the genius, Steve should have expected it. The comfort and ease with which he held the spotlight, the infuriating ability to twist any scenario to suit his purpose and a blithe disregard for self-preservation were hardly traits developed overnight.  
  
Two nights ago, finalizing the strategy to draw Zola to Warehouse 59 and tie him inextricably to his crimes, Steve had lost his temper at Stark’s insistent changes to the plan. Namely that _he, not Steve,_ act as bait, a potential buyer for the sickness Zola was peddling, a lure that Zola could not have resisted.  
  
Steve was ashamed at the vitriol that had spilled forth as he’d pushed himself right up into Stark’s face, his voice tight and vibrating with frustration and anger. “What are you playing at Stark? You think this is a game? You and I both know you aren’t one for the sacrifice play. What is it you’re really after? You want to be called a _hero_? Well you will not do it at the expense of my team or at the expense of those children we have already failed!”  
  
It had been unfair and he had wanted to take it back as soon as he said it. _As soon as he saw the shutters drop down over his eyes_. Stark’s agenda may have been unclear, but he had also put himself on the front line with a brazen courage Steve had only witnessed on the battlefield.  
  
He could have sent any number of his minions to handle the Chief’s request. After all it had barely been half a year since Stark had been out in the public sphere after a conspicuously unexplained year-long hiatus. Steve had watched his comeback press meet, impressed despite himself, as Stark tore up his speech cards and declared he would be shutting down SI weapons manufacturing.  
  
With his company in upheaval, it wasn't like the man had spades of time to spare.  
  
But regardless, he had turned up himself, in a three-piece suit, trimmed facial hair and a Starkpad that looked eons ahead of anything on the market and rewrote their entire blueprint. He poked and prodded at Steve, at the case, at Zola’s motives. Picked it all apart and put it all back together again with Stark as the lynchpin for its resolution.  
  
It had infuriated Steve, having the control wrested from him, but he’d had no choice but to back down when Stark had looked at him unyielding, “You don’t have a choice Cap.”  
  
At the end of it all, with Zola zip-tied in the back of an armored car, Steve had felt strangely helpless and lost. It felt wrong that Stark was the one sitting there in the early morning light with his shirt sleeves tattered and stiff with dried blood.  
  
_Someone else hurt on his watch.___  
__  
Stark had shown little patience for the paramedic who attempted to clean and dress the nasty gash on his upper arm. Steve had hovered over the paramedic's shoulder, telling Stark to let the man do his job.  
  
"Drop the boy scout routine Cap, we got the fucker, didn't we? Job's done." His tone was defensive, eyes narrowed in annoyance - a clear _I don't need your help_ thrown down like a gauntlet.  
  
Maybe he had deserved that, but regardless Steve had felt an almost unbearable urge to grab him by the scruff of his neck and hold him face down on that stretcher until he _yielded_.  
  
Swore to bottle up whatever insane thrill-seeking impulses that drove him and left Steve to his peace. And therein lay the problem. Stark got under his skin. And Steve could not work out how to stop him.  
  
Running a tired hand over his face, he resolved to put Stark firmly out of his mind as he left the dark swirl of the city streets behind to step into the cheery glow of Bucky's Bar & Grill. Nodding at familiar faces and accepting handshakes from the various members of the task force, he made his way to the bar. Bucky was serving two men down the other end but waved at him to sit down. The task force would be officially disbanded tomorrow, a skeleton crew left active to finalize loose ends.  
  
Waiting, Steve eyed the room, spotting his fellow detectives, Sam and Clint, with Stark. The precinct coroner, Dr. Banner stood next to Clint, listening intently as Stark talked, gesturing with one arm, the other in a sling under his jacket. Steve raised his eyebrows, this was surprising. Bruce was notoriously private and rarely spotted outside his lab.  
  
"Stevie! Congratulations are in order I think."  
  
"Bucky," Steve smiled in genuine pleasure. "You're a sight for sore eyes."  
  
James Buchanan Barnes was Steve's oldest friend. Growing up a block apart, they had enlisted out of high school and served two tours in Afghanistan together. When Bucky lost an arm on his watch, Steve had turned his back on a promising military career and followed him home. For a while they drifted apart, caught in the mechanics of recovery and resettlement. In his third year of serving with the PD, Bucky had reached out to Steve with a plan to use his comp money to gut out the old derelict cop bar around the corner.  
  
And somewhere between dusty Saturdays, sledgehammers and cold beers they had found each other again.  
  
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Bucky grinned as he poured out a cold draught, the metal of his prosthetic left arm clinking against the glass "On the house then."  
  
"Thanks Buck, hold the congratulations though. At least until Natasha has the bastard counting bars."  
  
Bucky's eyes narrowed at the mention of the DA’s name. "Natasha’s handling it, is she? How is the firecracker doing these days?"  
  
Steve chuckled "She is District Attorney Buck. Kind of comes with the territory."  
  
Bucky and Natasha had history. Ancient history in Bucky’s opinion. His life had neatly been bucketed into everything prior to the lost arm and everything after. Natasha had fallen into the first bucket. She had been patient, refusing to give into Bucky’s efforts to close himself off. That is until Bucky had told her in no uncertain terms that they were different people now, that what they had was not enough. _That she wasn’t enough.___  
__  
That was six years ago. But the fault lines from that break-up stretched into the present day. Steve volleyed enough queries from both parties as to each others well-being that he sometimes wished they would just talk to each other and leave him out of the equation.  
  
An attractive wounded soldier didn’t lack for company. But after Natasha, Bucky had never had another serious relationship. Never even made the attempt to.  
  
After Bucky, Natasha had laser focused on work, a frenzy of plays moving her rapidly through the ranks in public court. But the light in her eyes had dimmed somewhat and her outer shell had hardened.  
  
"She's doing good, working too hard as always but that's not particularly new. Also I would pay good money to see you call Natasha 'firecracker' to her face.”  
  
"Never Stevie, I do value my life you know," Bucky quirked him a smile. Wiping the counter down with the dishrag flung across his shoulder, he gave Steve a serious look. "I’m glad it’s done though, you guys did good. Everyone will sleep a little easier knowing that monster is behind bars.”  
  
“You are right about that Buck, I only wish we could have done it sooner,” Steve suddenly felt drained. He glanced back wearily at his team, wanting nothing more than to go home to the peace of his apartment.  
  
Bucky watched him, something like sympathy in his face. “Did things work out ok in the end? With having Stark on the team and everything?”  
  
“He did what he promised Buck, he told us he would get Zola in a fortnight and he did. There isn't a lot I can hold against him in light of that.”  
  
“But it wasn’t easy,” Bucky guessed.  
  
“No, nothing about Stark is ever easy.” Placing the empty beer glass on the bar, Steve stood. “I’m going to show my face and get out of here Buck. I’ll catch you later.”  
  
“Take care Stevie. Don’t go giving a piece of yourself to every bastard out there. I need you whole.” Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky was talking about Zola or Stark.  
  
—  
  
"Cap, I didn't think I was going to be able to catch you." The casual words belied the intensity with which Stark had followed Steve's progress across the room. "Give me a minute outside when you're ready?" Steve could see the white lines around his mouth, the slightly glazed look in his eyes. The pain meds must be wearing off.  
  
Wary but too tired to circumnavigate whatever Stark had planned, Steve nodded. "I was stopping by to say good night, I'll walk out with you." To Clint and Sam, with a grimace, "I don't know about you boys but I am done with this day."  
  
"Don't blame you Steve, we won't be far behind." Sam raised his glass in a salute as Clint nodded in agreement.  
  
"We'll be there for the debrief tomorrow Cap, get your rest, Fury's going to want to put us through the paces. Not to mention Nat."  
  
"Bruce," He shook the coroner's hand warmly.  
  
"Drop by in the morning Steve. I'll have the autopsy results on the last vic for you." At Steve's nod, Bruce turned to Stark, an imploring hand on his arm, "Tony I'll be holding you to your word, come see me in the morning."  
  
"Yes mama bear," Stark rolled his eyes, but his smile to Bruce was fond. "Come on Cap, let's blow this joint. Bruce, boys." With a final wave Stark drew the lapels of his coat together with his one free hand, leading a perplexed Steve out.  
  
"You know Bruce?"  
  
"Yeah you could say that. He's my doctor."  
  
"I didn't think he was that kind of a doctor."  
  
Tony laughed. "That's what he tells me too. Me and Bruce, we go a while back, shared some crazy times together. Beneath that butter wouldn't melt in your mouth exterior beats the heart of an absolute beast." Stark chuckled as he stepped out of the door Steve held open for him, the sound warm and unaffected. "Young Bruce Banner gave me a fair run for my money and trust me, that's saying something."  
  
"Somehow, I really doubt that."  
  
The street outside Bucky's was empty save for Stark's black Bentley which sat idling on the curb. Steve held up a hand in acknowledgement to Happy, Stark's chauffeur and bodyguard waiting behind the wheel.  
  
"One of these days Cap, I'll hunt out the videos from Bali and you can eat your words. It's always the quiet ones that hide the wildest streaks and instead I end up getting a bad rap," Tony grinned up at him.  
  
It had not bypassed Steve's notice that Tony Stark was a handsome man, in fact it had taken some active compartmentalization to avoid thinking some fairly inappropriate things about the billionaire. But in the yellow light of the street lamp, eyes soft with amusement and with his ever-present barbed defenses down, he was _magnetic_.  
  
Steve swallowed thickly and cleared his throat, taking a step back subtly. "I'm sure your reputation or lack of one would have been well earned Stark," His eyes dropped to Tony's sling. "There was something you wanted to discuss? We should get you out of the cold."  
  
"Tony." At Steve's questioning look, he went on, "I think when you've seen me on my knees, least you can do is call me by my first name." He shoved his hand through his hair in an aborted frustrated gesture. "Look Cap, I know I didn't make things easy. Hell, _you_ didn't make things easy. But I wanted to clear the air before everything wrapped up."  
  
Steve felt sucker punched.  
  
Frowning, he shook off the reaction. It hadn't registered to him until this very moment that after tomorrow, the chances of the two men interacting were likely to be little to none.  
  
"I don't make a habit of worrying about what the general populace thinks about me. In fact I couldn't give a rat's ass. But I just wanted you to know, this wasn't some sick ghetto tourism shtick I was pulling. When Nick called me, I knew it was a problem I was uniquely positioned to solve. That's why I came on board. If I also got to help put that fucker away then that was just a bonus."  
  
Sta- Tony is looking away down the street. Steve considered him in silence. Their differences aside, he knew, _Tony had cared_. More than the genius would ever admit to under duress. Steve had seen the toll it had taken on him as each new name was added to the vic board in Clint's careful hand. It had driven him into a frenzy of late nights, coding with flying fingers while calling out a relentless volley of instructions to his AI, JARVIS. Steve remembered walking into the war room on far too many mornings to find Tony still hunched over his terminal, chin stubbornly set against whatever electrical demons he fought.  
  
"Tony." He tried out the name. The man turned to look at him, there was something inexplicable in the depths of his gaze, the way he rocked back on his heels an unconscious wish to avoid whatever was coming. As if what Steve was about to say carried far more weight than this conversation warranted.  
  
"I was out of line. I don't agree with all your methods, but I also know we couldn't have gotten here without you. Let's call it even. Water under the bridge." Steve held his hand out.  
  
With a small nod Tony took it. "Ok Cap."  
  
There was a beat of silence, pregnant with something Steve couldn't name.  
  
Tony shot him a quick rueful smile, shoved another hand through his hair and gestured to the car. "Can I give you a lift?"  
  
Steve shook his head. "Thanks, but I could use the walk."  
  
About to slide into the Bentley, Tony paused momentarily and looked back with a hint of teeth, eyes liquid and mercurial in the liminal light. Every inch the playboy billionaire again, "Admit it Cap, you're going to miss me. We may have to do something about that."  
  
He didn't wait for an answer.  
  
Steve stood on the curb until the car disappeared from view, his chest feeling oddly tight, heart thudding a bit too loudly. __Why did it bother him that Tony would be walking out of his life tomorrow?  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment. I love hearing feedback :)


	2. Chapter 2

The dawn air was crisp and sharp against Steve's cheeks. He stopped at the turn-off just past the Brooklyn bridge to admire the sweeping vista of the city. It was impressive, even with the fog and drizzle and morning calls of seagulls flocking to the docks.   
  
Steve paused to take a deep lungful of air, his calves aching from the pace he had set. His head was clear and senses alert, a welcome feeling after the wooliness of fitful sleep peppered with blurry uncomfortable dreams. With a final stretch, he set off jogging again back towards the city proper.   
  
Showered and changed, he drove his bike down to the Coroner's Office. The city was awake, the bustle and noise a familiar background noise as he stopped at the coffee truck parked down from the Coroner's Office. The heat from the paper cup warmed his hands as he strode down fluorescent lit corridors to Bruce's lab situated next to the ice box. He knocked once and entered, pulling up short at the sight that greeted him.   
  
Tony sat on an empty gurney, jacket off, shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, Bruce stood between his legs, his neatly ordered curls bent over Tony's chest.   
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."   
  
Tony looked over at Steve as he pulled down the undershirt that was rucked up about his chest. Steve caught an expanse of olive skin and taut defined abs with a tantalizing line of curling dark hair before the thick shiny material of the undershirt hid it from view. Bruce stepped back, brown eyes blinking behind his wire framed glasses.   
  
"Morning Steve."   
  
Steve knew that whatever was going on was completely innocent. Still, it didn't stop the curl of hot jealousy pooling in his gut.   
  
"Perfect timing Cap, the good doctor here was so taken by my charms he was about to have his wicked way with me. You're going to have to protect my virtue," Tony jumped down from the gurney, attempting to button his shirt one armed.   
  
"Tony," Bruce admonished with a distracted air. "We were just about finished Steve. Give me two minutes, I'll grab my notes."   
  
"Then why are you blushing Bruciebear?" Tony called out as Bruce ducked into the back room. "I'm not complaining but at least buy me dinner first."   
  
"Put out on the first date, do you?"   
  
"Why Steve, are you asking?" With a frustrated huff, he abandoned his attempts at buttoning the shirt and looked over with an innocent expression, "Could you Cap? I'll hold your coffee."   
  
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Tony, Steve handed over his cup. The buttons of the shirt were mother of pearl and the shirt itself was a fine wool blend, warm from the heat of Tony's body. He smelled of expensive aftershave and beneath it  _ ozone, _ like the aftermath of a thunderstorm. Steve ignored the stirring of interest in his belly, his attention drawn to the circular indent slightly visible beneath the thick undershirt, in the center of Tony's chest.   
  
He felt Tony's eyes on him, looking up through heavy fringed lashes. "See something you like Cap?" he asked.   
  
Tony’s eyes had a trick of changing to warm amber whenever he came across something particularly intriguing, something he wanted to take apart with his hands.  _ They were amber now. _ _   
_ _   
_ Steve paused, his fingers on the button just above the waistband of Tony's pants. There was a pounding in the back of his head, like the tide was coming in.   
  
"Tucked in?" He heard himself ask.   
  
"Yes."   
  
Steve held his gaze steadily as he pulled back the waistband slightly to neatly tuck in the shirt tails. He felt the heat of Tony's skin as the pads of his fingers skimmed the dip in his lower back and around his hips. When Tony's lower belly clenched against the back of his knuckles as he finished the tuck, he felt the movement slide all the way to the tip of his cock. He stepped back as if burnt.  _ In a morgue Rogers, _ he reminded himself harshly.   
  
With a slightly ragged breath, Tony dropped his eyes and took a sip from Steve's cup and grimaced in disgust. "Gross Cap, what on Earth is this?"   
  
Steve grabbed his cup back. "It's cocoa."   
  
"Honestly, who drinks anything that sweet at this time of the morning? I'm offended on behalf of America. Red, white, blue and caffeine, it's in our constitution. Two of our finest institutions trained you and you missed this memo? I'm worried for you Cap. This can't be normal, is it Bruce? Maybe you should look him over."   
  
Bruce chuckled, "Not that kind of doctor Tony." Walking over to the second gurney, Bruce drew the sheet back.   
  
The cadaver was pale and waxy. The tapestry of welts and grotesque boils littering the skin looked tamer now and clinically removed from the pain and blood she would have endured.   
  
"I've sent the report to your email Steve. Almost an exact replica of the previous victims. Except for two things. First, the time between when she was injected with Zola's serum to death was about half an hour longer." Steve frowned. That suggested Zola had been close, all the other victims had died instantaneously, their bodies rejecting the serum violently as soon as it was injected.   
  
"You can see that the striation of the blisters form in wider arcs from the hypodermic marks behind the ear. Now the second may explain why she lasted longer." Bruce pointed to the right wrist where a puncture from a larger needle was visible, a greenish blue bruise had bloomed around it. "Zola had injected her with something that I am guessing was intended to help her DNA sequence stabilize after the serum was administered. I tested her blood and I couldn't find anything that couldn't be tied back to the chemical makeup of the serum. But the bruising pattern around the puncture wound is indicative of heavy metal poisoning."   
  
Bruce drew the sheet over the victim, and gestured the men to gather around his computer terminal.   
  
"The general blood work also didn't reveal any heavy metal presence, but a skin graft from around the puncture revealed something very interesting."   
  
There was a schema of genetic sequencing on the screen.   
  
Tony breathed out in a low whistle. "Advanced genetic coding. Live rewrite too. Has to be nano-bots, there's no other way."   
  
"That is what I'm thinking. I can't be sure though, there isn't anything like this on the market for me to cross test with. But you can see how the sequence of the genetic material on the skin graft has been altered. I only caught it because I think the injection was administered carelessly, maybe releasing some of the bots into the epidermis rather than directly into the bloodstream."   
  
"Where would Zola get something like this. SI's nano-tech could achieve this, but it's still on the drawing board, pending ethics committee approval. We haven't even released the beta production yet for peer review." Tony was peering intently at the screen, scrolling through the schema. "Let me just see..."   
  
Tony's face went pale and Bruce flinched as he hit the table with a clenched fist. "That fucker!"   
  
"Tony?" Steve asked.   
  
Tony closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how Cap but this is SI tech. That bastard got his hands on this somehow. He used this on that poor woman..."   
  
Bruce looked concerned. "Tony, he wouldn't have - would he?"   
  
Steve was lost.  _ Who? _ _   
_ _   
_ "There's a few things I'm going to have to explain." Tony looked lost and bone tired. Steve moved as if to put an arm around him and aborted the movement clenching his fists. "Cap, I need you to get me in a room with Nick and Natasha, as soon as you can. If I'm right the buck doesn't stop with Zola."   
  
Steve nodded, already messaging Hill to get the Chief's calendar freed up. Then on a hunch, he called Clint. The detective picked up on the first ring. "Clint, I need you to do something for me. Check on Zola for me. I want to make sure the custody is airtight. Put someone you trust outside his door." Steve hung up promising to fill Clint in soon.   
  
"Tony don't go blaming yourself for this." Bruce had a hand on Tony's shoulder in commiseration.   
  
"I can't seem to catch a break Bruce. This is on me, I should have moved sooner." His face was a grim resolute mask.   
  
"Happy is waiting Cap. Let's go."   
  
—   
  
Stepping out of the Coroner's Office, into the grey morning, Steve's mind was already at work trying to parse the new information. There had been aspects of the case that hadn't seemed to fit. Even as they moved the net closer to Zola, Steve had not been able to reconcile the ease with which the logistics of Zola's experiments had been conducted. The numerous locations, the expensive equipment, the protection payments along the trafficking routes, it had not been a one man operation even if it had deliberately been designed to look like one. And now Stark tech was involved. Whatever Tony was going to reveal, it would draw back the veil a bit more.   
  
As the Bentley pulled around the corner, Steve re-pocketed his keys, he would pick up his bike later. He nodded at Happy who had walked around and stood by the car.   
  
"Thanks Pep, I'll see you there." Tony slid his phone into the jacket pocket. The worry lines deepening around his mouth as he turned to Steve.   
  
It happened in a flash, there was a loud reverberating boom and the smell of acrid smoke. They were about ten feet away and the force of the impact knocked Tony back into Steve. On instinct, Steve curled around Tony, tucking him close to his body and dropped and rolled on the pavement. His ears were ringing. Pushing himself up on his arms, he looked down to check on Tony who appeared unharmed barring a small graze on his upper cheek.   
  
"Happy! Good God. Steve let me up." He was scrambling onto his feet and Steve had to physically haul him back.   
  
"Stay Tony." His voice brooked no arguments. "I will check on him."   
  
Happy lay like a limp rag doll, flung across the pavement. Steve yelled at a young kid with a backpack to call 911 as he slid down to his knees, gingerly feeling for a pulse.   
  
"Is he - ?" Of course Tony had not stayed behind.   
  
Nodding, Steve ran experienced hands down Happy's sides and across his ribs, wincing at the unnatural angle of his right leg. A few broken ribs, likely a broken femur and a few broken fingers on the hand he had used to break his fall.   
  
Happy's breath was audible, ragged and shallow. Tony crouched at his side, his eyes tight with fury.   
  
"Boss... you've got to go. Detective, please get him..." He coughed, a wet raspy sound that worried Steve.   
  
"Don't speak Happy. You are going to be ok. I'm right here."   
  
"Jesus. Tony, Steve are you all right?" Bruce jogged up to them, his lab coat on, hands still covered in sterile gloves.   
  
"Bruce, can you stay with Happy? The paramedics are on the way. I need to get Tony away from here."   
  
"You've got another thing coming Rogers if you think I'm leaving him." Tony stood legs braced, daring Steve to gainsay him.   
  
Steve blew out an exasperated breath, but Bruce interrupted.   
  
"Go Tony. I've got him."   
  
Steve stayed close to Tony, covering his back as they jogged towards Steve's bike. "Get us to the Tower Cap. It's the only place that's safe right now."   
  


__   
  
It was only after Steve had guided his bike into the private basement of Stark Tower that he let the tension in his shoulders drop away. Kicking the bike into brake, he followed Tony, peripherally registering the fleet of beautiful cars, sitting silently under down lights. The lift closed behind them. There were no visible buttons.   
  
"Straight to the pent-house J."   
  
"Welcome back sir." The disembodied British voice startled Steve momentarily.  _ JARVIS. _ _   
_ _   
_ "I've started compiling CCTV footage sir, from the time you left this morning to the last logged location of the Bentley, I'll compile my analysis for you in thirty minutes. I'm also picking up radio chatter on the scene, Happy is en-route to King's County. I have informed the hospital that he is to be put up in the Stark wing."   
  
"You're the best J."   
  
"Are you hurt sir?"   
  
"Worrying about me J? You're going soft."   
  
"Not at all sir. I just don't like the insurance paperwork."   
  
Steve stifled a smile as he followed Tony out of the lift straight into the living area of the penthouse. Floor to ceiling windows spanned the breadth of the room, there was a bar on one end, a sunken seating area and an open kitchen space and dining table on the other end.   
  
"Reroute Pepper to the Tower J. And I want you to get Peter on a secure line. Tell him to leave the lab as unobtrusively as he can and join us here. Track him J, any trouble I want to know right away."   
  
Tony shrugged out of his jacket and Steve followed suit.   
  
"JARVIS is quite something. Do I want to know how he has access to CCTV records?"   
  
"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to Cap."   
  
"That's comforting." Steve said wryly, eyeing the ceiling. He followed him to the bar, watching as he poured a generous splash of whiskey into two glasses and pushed one towards Steve.   
  
His phone pinged with a message from Clint.   
  
"Natasha and Chief Fury are en route. I give them twenty minutes."   
  
Tony slumped against the counter next to him. Steve was close enough that their shoulders touched.   
  
"What a mess." His face was drawn, the skin pale against dark groomed facial hair.   
  
Steve felt something in his chest release a little. Whatever had happened, at least Tony was here. And safe. He wasn't sure why but that felt important. More important than the mysterious circumstances of the morning.   
  
He leaned into Tony's shoulder and carefully adjusted the strap on his sling back into place, tracing the seam where the strap met Tony's shoulder. Guard down and slightly boneless in repose, Tony tracked the movement of Steve's fingers with his eyes and flicked up to look at Steve with an unreadable look.   
  
"Whatever it is. We'll get through this." Steve felt compelled to add, "You're not on your own here Tony."   
  
"You must have a lot of questions."   
  
"You weren't surprised by the bomb. That concerns me." Steve looked at him, considering the wariness in his brown eyes. "But my questions can wait until the others get here."   
  
Tony's eyes were down again, contemplating his glass. "You know you're something else Cap." He drained the rest of the glass and moved away.   
  
"Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to go check on J before the cavalry gets here." It was an excuse to put space between them as anything else.   
  
Steve took his glass with him and settled down on the large L shaped couch facing the bank of windows. It was plush and about the most comfortable thing Steve had come across. A tactile reminder of the gaping difference that separated him from Tony.   
  
At the precinct, it was easy to forget who he was, the money, the fame, the consequence. It had been all too easy to fall into the rhythms of work, the constant banter and rejoinders. The inevitable confrontations that riled Steve's senses, made his hands itch to grab Tony and hold him still, capture the energy that rolled off the genius as easily as he breathed.   
  
Watching the clouds clear as mid-morning sunshine blanketed the city, Steve wondered at the underlying relief he felt. He had never been good at lying to himself. Worry about the case, about Tony aside, this was not over yet.   
  
_ His time with Tony was not over yet. _ _   
_ _   
_ "Captain, Chief Fury and DA Romanoff have arrived. May I direct you to the meeting room?" JARVIS broke into his reverie.   
  
"I haven't been Captain in a long time JARVIS."   
  
"My apologies, Detective Rogers. I pick up my vocal cues primarily from Sir but I have learnt his humor and references are not always appropriate."   
  
Steve let out a bark of laughter at JARVIS' long suffering tone. "It's ok JARVIS you may call me Captain or Steve. All my friends do."   
  
"Thank you Captain. If you approach the lift I will direct you to the meeting level."   
  
—   
  
There was a stunning woman seated in the meeting room, her slender long legs crossed. The shiny auburn of her sleek ponytail rested against a silk white blouse. She was tapping away busily on a Starkpad. Steve was met with clear pale blue eyes as she looked up at his entry. Standing smoothly she approached him with a warm smile.   
  
"You must be Detective Rogers. Pepper Potts." Her handshake was firm. "Thank you for keeping him safe this morning Detective."   
  
"Steve please ma'am."   
  
Her laugh was throaty and full-bodied. "I can see why he likes you. Call me Pepper, Steve."   
  
"Pepper, my love, my life, what lies are you spreading about me?" Tony asked as he pulled her into a one-armed hug, dropping a kiss on her cheek.   
  
"Really Tony, if you didn't insist on endangering your life before lunch every other day, I would actually have some time to run your company." She was examining his face with careful elegant fingers. "Honestly at this rate I'll have to call Rhodey in."   
  
"Oh Pep don't be like that. One more strike and I know Rhodey will make good on his promise and move in."   
  
There had been headlines a while back linking the two romantically. Though the ease of familiarity between them spoke more to family and less of romance.   
  
"Sir, Chief Fury and DA Romanoff are on their way up."   
  
"Thanks J. When Peter arrives get him settled in will you? I'll need him in the workshop in a couple of hours."   
  
The door opened behind Steve, Nick Fury and Natasha entered the room. Steve made the introductions and stood leaning against the wall. He was filled with nervous energy and crossed his arms to still himself.

Taking a deep breath, Tony met Steve's eyes briefly before focusing on Fury and Natasha. 

"I'll get straight to the point. I have reason to believe that a certain member of Stark Industries' leadership may have coordinated Zola's efforts. Bruce discovered unreleased SI tech on the last victim, and there are only three people on this planet who have access to it. One is me, the other is my nano-tech expert Peter Parker and last but never least, my business partner Obadiah Stane."   
  
"Obadiah Stane." Fury narrowed his eyes.   
  
"Yep, got it in one Nick." Tony's expression was carefully neutral. "He was like a father to me, well more than Howard ever was anyway. Bailed me out of jail at fourteen, drove me to Debbie Connor's house so I could ask her to prom, held the bucket the first time I emptied dad's 1863 bottle of Macallan and paid Al Qaeda wannabes the Ten Rings to have me killed in Kandahar last summer.“ 

Tony ignored the sounds of surprise. “But the Ten Rings spotted a far more lucrative opportunity than the bounty Obie placed on my head. They attempted to persuade me with the warmth of their hospitality over the course of three months to build them their own Jericho missile."   
  
The blood was roaring in Steve's ears. Two tours in Afghanistan, he certainly knew of the Ten Rings and the atrocities they were capable of. And Tony.... _ three months _ . Steve yearned to punch something and instead settled for tightening his crossed arms.   
  
Tony's mouth twisted wryly as he continued. "Ever the intrepid engineer I built my way out of that cave and it only cost me Yinsen's life and real estate on my chest."   
  
The self-disgust on his face was painful to watch. He pulled up his shirt and tapped once on a circular device that sat squarely in his chest. It glowed with a faint blue light and spidery scars webbed away from it and over his pectorals. Glancing down at it dispassionately, he pulled the t-shirt back down. "It's certainly not pretty but it is some of my finest work. It's a self-perpetuating power source, a miniaturized arc reactor, and it maintains the electro-magnet that stops the shrapnel in my bloodstream from entering my heart."   
  
The silence in the room was palpable. Steve consciously un-clenched his jaw. Now was not the time to give in to his hind brain's demand to grab Tony and drag him into the safety of his arms.   
  
"We didn't suspect Obie until well after Tony had returned and closed SI's weapons production." Pepper continued "Obie has a black ledger of illegal arms deals that is at least two decades old and a lot of very powerful angry clients who suddenly had their supply cut-off. He made mistakes, mainly by rushing to give them something even better."   
  
"The arc reactor technology?" Natasha guessed.   
  
Pepper gave a sharp nod in assent. "JARVIS's sweep picked up the blueprints Tony had shared with Obie sitting in the servers of militant groups across East Africa." Fury coughed at that but didn't interrupt. "Once we knew it had to be Obie conclusively it was a day's work for JARVIS to uncover the full extent of the deception."   
  
"But Obie is a slippery eel. All of the orders, all of the transactions are funneled through Stark owned company structures- with my name on the incorporation docs." Tony's eyes sparked with anger. "We had no choice but to bide our time and wait to catch him in the act. Now that I know he has to be the one that funded Zola, there's a chance we can find his fingerprints all over this. He was always obsessed with the old Soviet myths about super soldiers - Zola may have found him, but I wouldn't be surprised if Obie went looking for him first."   
  
"And I take it the car bomb this morning was not the first - well second attempt?" Fury asked fingers steepled contemplatively in front of him.   
  
"No." Tony didn't elaborate.   
  
"Sir, excuse the interruption, but Iron Monger dropped off my grid a few minutes ago. I have started scanning from last known location but he's dark."   
  
"That's JARVIS," Tony explained at Natasha's look. "Iron Monger is Obie. Something has tipped him off that I'm onto him, maybe Bruce's report."   
  
Steve's phone buzzed. It was Clint. Hanging up, Steve pulled up a chair next to Fury. "Sir, Clint just confirmed, Zola is dead. His cell was secured and video footage shows no interference. They've called Bruce in, we'll find out what happened one way or another."   
  
"I can take a guess Cap. The nano-bots - it would stand to reason Obie would want insurance. Knowingly or not Zola must have carried them in his bloodstream, controlled remotely there are various creative ways of causing death."   
  
Pepper sighed, "One of the many reasons we haven't moved towards production yet."   
  
Fury sat back in his chair, face impassive.   
  
"What we have here Stark is nothing short of a SNAFU. And I am tempted to rake you over hot coals for running this op on your own without bringing law enforcement into it. But I also assume our friends at Langley had their own reasons for staying out of it."   
  
"My Langley assigned baby-sitter Agent Coulson has informed me that as enterprising as Obie is he didn't pull this off without Pentagon's help. It's one thing for the CIA to look into SI and completely another for them to look into the Pentagon.” Tony grinned without humor. “They cut me a deal, they will turn a blind eye to JARVIS's surveillance capabilities and in return I catch Obie and as an added bonus get them enough intel to sic Internal Affairs at whoever was helping him."   
  
Steve felt a strange calm settle over him. His priority was clear. "Tony how many people are aware of this operation?"   
  


"Myself, Pepper, Bruce and JARVIS." He paused looking thoughtful. "Langley is aware of the illegal arms sales but it is only Agent Coulson himself who is aware of Obie's suspected involvement. Too sensitive to be beyond need to know."   
  
Steve's mind worked quickly, assessing and dismissing several possibilities.   
  
"Chief, we don't know how far up the chain this goes. I recommend we go into lock-down. Everyone who is aware of the Iron Monger must be relocated to a safe house. We put round the clock security at the location and relocate whatever resources we need to track him down pronto. I volunteer myself and Clint."   
  
"Hold-up Steve, this is still my gig. Hiding in a safe-house is the fastest way to lose that fucker. He will disappear into some god forsaken corner of the world where we can't touch him before you can even blink." Tony stood, visibly agitated as he raked a hand through his hair.   
  
"Steve has a point Stark. Stane will not leave without covering his tracks. He has already killed once and attempted to put you down multiple times, the latest attempt just this morning in fact." Fury nodded to himself. "Here is what we will do. You relocate Ms Potts and Dr Banner to to Stark Tower. Steve and Clint will be the department's contribution to your security detail, not that you need it." He looked at Tony wryly, "I am well aware what a fortress this place is. Do not think for a moment that I don’t know how flexible you have been in interpreting your zoning permits."   
  
Tony smirked at that. "Well, now this I can work with." His eyes slid over Steve in a quick considering glance.   
  
Fury was continuing, "I will talk to Agent Coulson and have him on standby in case the CIA needs to be brought in. Natasha, I know you well enough to know you won't be persuaded to take a break at Casa Stark, so I am going to have to ask you to stay vigilant. We can provide you with security if you need it."   
  
"Kind of you Nick, but I can look after myself. I'll submit the state's filing as if Zola is the only perpetrator involved. This should buy us a bit of time if Stane thinks the department remains unaware of his involvement." She stood shaking out her skirt. "I'll be in touch. Ms Potts, gentlemen."   
  
After that there was a brief flurry of activity as Steve finalized details with the Chief. Pepper disappeared into what was clearly a wing reserved solely for her use. Tony spared a brief glance at Steve, said something about seeing Peter and left.   
  
—   
  
Steve found himself suddenly alone. JARVIS helpfully guided him back to the penthouse, to a lusciously appointed room in dark greys and blues. It occurred to Steve that he would need to pick up a few things from his apartment but he was loathe to leave Tony, even within the safety of Stark Tower. He sent a quick message to Bucky asking for the essentials.   
  
There was a pad and paper on the table. Steve sat down and jotted down some notes from Bruce's report and the meeting with Tony earlier. He had expected Tony to lift the veil slightly, not blow the entire case out of the water. As it stood, very little detective work was actually required on the department's part. His priority now was Tony's safety and to do that Stane would have to be locked away.   
  
He put the pen down and paced the room restlessly. He didn't want to think about what Tony had gone through. It set off an alarming sequence of reactions in his mind all ending with the genius held physically close to Steve and safe from whatever ills the universe would choose to visit on him next. Steve smiled at the image. Tony Stark was possibly the least likeliest candidate to play damsel in distress and would quite happily tell Steve where to shove it if he knew the direction of his thoughts.   
  
He felt the urge to see Tony again, have him within touching distance.   
  
"JARVIS?" he tried, self-consciously looking up at the ceiling.   
  
"How can I help you Captain?"   
  
"I'll need a room, some secure computer terminals and if you can swing it, a white board."   
  
"Certainly Captain, there are spare rooms on the workshop floor with secure terminals that you can use. I will organize for a white board to be brought down."   
  
"Thanks JARVIS. Could you also tell me where Tony is? Actually sorry I don't know if you are allowed to?"   
  
"It is not an issue Captain. Sir has asked that I give you what you need. Sir himself is in the workshop currently with Peter Parker."   
  
"Thank you again JARVIS."   
  
The workshop was a few floors down from the Penthouse. An opaque sheet of glass spanned the breadth of the floor, separating the lift and stair wells. Not knowing what to do, Steve knocked on the glass and took a startled step back as the glass turned transparent.   
  
The workshop was magnificent. Long tables in white, held projects and machinery in various degrees of completion. Shelves of equipment lined the back wall and a bank of smaller meeting rooms with clear glass separators spanned the right wall. The ceiling was exposed concrete and and a complex network of power and lead lines were neatly directed to each workstation. In the center of it all stood Tony with a young guy who looked startlingly similar to him. Tony gestured with one hand as blue luminescent holograms of system schematics shifted and moved to his will. 

Like a conductor of a ninety piece orchestra.   
  
"He's amazing like this isn't he?" Pepper's voice was soft. "I never tire of seeing Tony with his machines."   
  
Steve nodded, unable to look away.   
  
"It's biometric access Steve. Place your palm on the glass."   
  
"I don't -"   
  
"Something tells me Steve that you've been added to the access codes."   
  
Steve placed his right palm on the glass and the panels shifted silently to the side. Pepper gave him a knowing look which Steve chose to ignore. It wasn't something to read too much into.   
  
"Tony, I need Peter to finish up the paper work for the DA. I'll send him back as soon as we are done."   
  
Tony rolled his eyes at her. "Fine if you must, but you get your ass back here asap. I want the system ready to go before the Iron Monger's trail gets any colder."   
  
"Yes Mr.Stark, you know Pepper is the only one that can sway my affections away from you." The young man was positively twinkling.   
  
"She can sway something alright. Peter, the silent statue here is Detective Steve Rogers, Steve this is our resident boy wonder Peter Parker."   
  
Resisting the urge to roll his own eyes at Tony, Steve took the young man's outstretched hand.   
  
"Holy shit so this is the great Captain Rogers."   
  
Steve shot Tony a quick look but he was studiously focusing on his holograms. "Nice to meet you Peter. I haven't been a Captain for a long time." He repeated for the second time that day.   
  
"But can I still call you Captain?" He was practically bouncing in place.  _ How old was the kid anyway? _ _   
_ _   
_ "Sure." Steve said laughing lightly at Peter's grin.   
  
Pepper pushed at Peter's shoulders. "Come Peter you can put in the lunch order with JARVIS first. I'm feeling like Chinese. Steve come up and eat soon and bring Tony - I don't want to have to make JARVIS turn on the sprinklers again."   
  
The glass wall turned opaque once more. Steve cleared his throat in the ensuing silence.   
  
"JARVIS mentioned I could use one of the meeting rooms down here to set up shop. I hope that's ok?"   
  
"Sure, whatever you need - help yourself. Just watch out for Dum-E. He likes making new friends, just don't drink anything he gives you." Tony was still focused on his holograms.   
  
_ Admit it Cap, you're going to miss me.  _ Tony had been right, he would have missed him and if it wasn’t for a twist of fate, they would have walked out of each other's lives this morning. Steve had never been a man to make the same mistake twice.   
  
"Dummy?" Steve cocked a hip against the workstation, watching Tony shift through the schematics.   
  
"I see that you are determined to hold me up.” Sighing theatrically, Tony flicked the holograms and they disappeared. “Dum-E is one of my robots. Bit useless but fancies himself a helper and I haven't been able to dissuade him from his vocation." Tony still wasn't looking at him. "Dum-E you metal bucket, get over here."   
  
What looked like a robotic arm mounted on wheels, rolled over to the station, chirping curiously. Steve chuckled in amazement as the robot prodded at him gently. "Hey there Dum-E. It's nice to meet you." He attempted to shake its three pronged grip but it was more interested in trying to lift his t-shirt. 

Steve laughed outright as Tony pushed the robot away, setting it to roll back a few paces. "You're an embarrassment to me DUM-E. I should have donated you to the city college when I had the chance."   
  
''Is this the meeting your children part of the day?"   
  
Tony rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, laughing softly as he finally met Steve's eyes. It was a guileless gesture and Steve felt his heart thud against his ribs.   
  
"Moving along a bit fast there Cap."   
  
Steve looked at him for a beat, "This place is amazing Tony. I knew you were brilliant but this is a whole other level."   
  
"You think I’m brilliant." Tony cut him a sideways glance with a small smile.   
  
Steve turned so he could look at Tony without dissembling. "I knew of the Ten Rings when I was over there Tony. You not only survived three months with them but you rescued yourself out of there. You're more than just brilliant."   
  
Tony frowned, looking down at his hands. "I just got lucky Steve, Yinsen was the only brave man in that cave. They wanted me to build the Jericho but almost every other piece of arsenal at their base was Stark made.” He clenched his fists, “Obie may have made the sale but the blood they shed is my responsibility." 

Tony stopped Steve with a shake of his head when he moved to protest. "It is my responsibility Steve no matter which way the cookie crumbles. And if it takes my last breath I will make sure Obie is stopped. SI is done with weapons for good."    
  
Steve nodded. "I know you will." Something eased in Tony’s face at Steve’s words.   
  
The air felt charged, like they stood on the precipice of an unknown depth.

"Can I see it?"   
  
Tony didn't pretend to misunderstand, he was avoiding Steve's eyes again. "It's ugly Cap. Not for polite company."   
  
"Nothing you make is ugly. Least of all the armor for your heart Tony."

  
"The man is a fucking romantic. Go figure." Tony's face was unreadable, his chin at a defensive angle but he lifted his t-shirt up without protesting further.   
  
There was a crystal glass panel encased in a thin metal frame that sat slightly raised above the flesh but for all intents and purposes it looked like it was a part of Tony. Behind the crystal pane there were layers of organized machinery, like a fine Swiss watch and at the center a glowing blue white light. The scars that traced their way across Tony's pecs were faint but numerous. As if the surgery had been performed in the dark.   
  
Steve pushed back the anger that welled in him.   
  
"Does it hurt?"   
  
"No, not any more."   
  
Steve was standing close enough to see the flecks of amber in Tony's eyes. He raised his hand, "May I?"   
  
Tony didn't reply, just nodded.   
  
Steve traced the circle where the metal met skin. Tony's skin was warm, olive gold with dusky nipples.   
  
_ What are you doing Rogers? _ This felt more intimate than if he had taken Tony in hand. Steve's skin was sensitized and breath shallow.   
  
He gently ghosted over the silvery web of scars, skimming over the hardened nub of the left nipple with a gentle swipe to place his palm flat over Tony's heart. He could feel the rapid tattoo of its beat, echoing his own. He placed his other hand on Tony's waist, drawing him closer.   
  
"Like I said, beautiful."   
  
Tony dropped his head forward onto Steve's shoulder.   
  
"What are you doing to me Cap?" his voice was hoarse with an unnamed emotion.   
  
Steve didn't reply, unwilling to break whatever this moment was. He slid his hand from under Tony's shirt and placed it on the back of his neck rubbing soothing circles. He smiled into Tony's hair at the moan that elicited. 

"This can be whatever you want it to be. We don't need the complication right now. But I would be lying if I said I didn't want to take, whatever this is, any further."   
  
Tony looked up at him eyes dark. "You’re giving me carte blanche to pursue this however I want Cap. I could tell you it’s bad business but I never look a gift horse in the mouth, just remember it when I come to collect."   
  
Steve cocked his head in wry amusement. "Give the man an inch..."   
  
“I hope you intend to give me more than an inch.”

Steve’s shoulders shook, “That’s terrible Tony.”

Tony grinned unapologetically. "You should also know Cap, I don't share well."   
  
Steve snorted in disbelief. "I am not the one with my ex-girlfriend living with me and I am not the one with my hot doctor about to move in."   
  
"Careful Cap, some people may mistake that for jealousy."  _ But he likes it. _   
  
Steve cupped Tony's jaw, tracing the scar on his cheek from the fall in the morning. "Take it as you will. I can be very patient Tony, but if I've learnt anything from you its that every venture needs an appropriate incentive.“   
  
He dipped his head and kissed him. His lips were dry and supple, the scrape of the goatee unexpectedly erotic. With a moan he angled Tony’s jaw, thumbing the soft skin of his jugular and nipped at his lips, demanding access. Tony tasted peppery sweet like heat and cinnamon. His fingers curled into Steve's hair, drawing him closer, fusing them together. 

Steve felt the blood pumping through his veins so loudly he heard it like a roar in his mind. He deepened the kiss and Tony met him parry for parry. His fingers dug into Tony’s hips in a primal urge to mark him, backing him into the table as he drove a knee between his legs. Tony rocked forward seeking friction and the evidence of his arousal sent a spike of pleasure coursing through Steve. 

Calling every ounce of willpower he possessed, Steve pulled away.   
  
Tony was panting slightly. "That's some incentive alright Cap." His eyes were at half mast, voice husky. "Fuck Steve, you blush like a good Catholic boy but you kiss me like you were trained for it." He stroked Steve's chest and ran his hand over his shoulder and down his arm. "Perfection."   
  
Steve felt his cheeks heat at the possession in his eyes.   
  
"Ah there it is again. You know what? We’ll sort out a terminal for you later. Go Cap, otherwise things are about to get a lot more complicated than either of us can afford right now," he said releasing him.   
  
Steve slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes crinkling around a smile that wouldn't stop. "I can't bring myself to care too much." 

Tony’s husky laughter followed him out of the workshop and Steve looked back just as the glass wall fogged into opacity once more. Tony was leaning against his work station, braced on his good arm, lips bruised from Steve’s kiss and an unguarded expression on his face that looked exactly like how Steve felt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment. I love hearing feedback :)  
Also if JARVIS sounds like Star Trek's Commander Data - you're not wrong. In my head JARVIS is the natural ancestor of Data :)


	3. Chapter 3

Printing ‘Iron Monger drops off grid’ neatly next to the current date, Steve dropped the whiteboard marker into its holder.

“That brings us full circle to where we are now.” 

Clint had appeared with Bruce just as lunch had arrived. Leaving the Coroner to settle in, they had taken their boxes of chow mien and egg rolls into the room Jarvis had set up for their use in Tony’s workshop. It had taken a few hours but they had carefully realigned the Zola case timeline with the timeline of the Iron Monger’s activity.

“I mean it’s obvious right? There’s a correlation between Stane’s black ledger and the shipments Zola received.” Clint was leaning back in his chair, flipping a pen between his fingers. “But why does it feel a little like we are punching above our weight here Cap?” 

Steve considered the white board with a frown. “You’re not wrong. It’s one thing for Stane to have been illegally selling firearms or energy tech to rebel factionists and completely another to fund the development of super soldiers on American soil.” 

“Super soldiers sounded like the sort of crazy shit a nut job like Zola would cook up. But when you’ve got the largest Arms conglomerate in the US funding it you’ve got to start asking questions.” Clint shook his head, “Christ next we’ll be finding out Stark is Bruce Wayne and the scarier part of that sentence is that I can actually believe it.” 

Steve was tempted to agree. 

Flipping through the printouts of the ledger, he pointed to the first entry Jarvis had noted as an anomaly. “This is what has me concerned. This credit entry right here. Two million dollars deposited one month before the first victim was found. And then a repeat every eight hours summing to an even fifty. It’s too large to be a deposit and too small to be an arms contract.”

Clint nodded. “And unlike the other payments, it wasn’t funneled through cryptocurrency but by someone who had the power to hide their tracks in fiat. I would take the odds that someone was paying Stane to smooth the wheels for Zola. And, I don’t know about you Cap, but there’s only a handful of parties with the resources to pull this off and I don’t want to end up on the wrong side of any of them.”

‘Well we know from Agent Coulson that defense is involved with the Iron Monger, this may be the key to lock that connection irrefutably. Steve rubbed at his temples, “While I am struggling to wrap my head around this, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the brass Clint, this brand of insanity is right down General Ross’s alley.”

“Well Cap, if I hadn’t met Stark, I’d say all this was utter bullshit too, grand conspiracy theories and super soldiers-” He pointed at Tony with his chin. “But look at him, he’s walking around with enough energy in his chest cavity to fuel a small city, he built an AI that makes Skynet look like an inevitability and has a security clearance higher than the Chief of Police.” 

Steve joined him in looking out the glass wall of the meeting room as Tony, Bruce and Peter stood around the same workstation, animatedly discussing the code sequences flashing on the holograph in front of them. The blue light glinted off Bruce’s glasses as he caught them watching. 

Clint continued, “Bruce is meant to be the Coroner for the most maligned district of Brooklyn but instead he’s gone all Beautiful Mind on us. He’s programming genetic sequences and playing around with nano-bots which were basically built by a kid. So I don’t know about you, but from here the world looks a lot crazier than it used to. And I have a feeling that it’s going to get a little crazier before all this ends.”

Steve felt the hairs on his neck prickle at Clint’s portentous words. 

\-- 

The tension in his shoulders eased away with each blow and the blood thrummed through his forearms as he steadied the reinforced punching bag. Sliding the towel from around his neck he wiped his face. 

“Enjoy the show?” he asked.

Tony was leaning against the door, hands in pockets, ankles crossed. At some point he had changed out of his jeans and t-shirt into soft merino wool pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Steve Rogers, exhibitionist extraordinaire. I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that your shirts are always two sizes too small.” 

Steve flashed him a grin as he flexed his arms, knowing exactly what his biceps looked like in this t-shirt.

“You fight dirty Rogers.” Tony told him, eyeing Steve’s muscles unabashedly. 

“Says the man who knows exactly what impression he’s giving every second of every day.” Slinging the towel across his shoulder, Steve stepped close to Tony. “I have a weakness for all of it, the suits, the jeans, the band tees and mostly the white shirts.”

“So it’s the white shirts that do it for you?” Tony tilted his head with a sidelong glance up through his thick lashes.

“Yes, but it’s definitely got something more to do with the man wearing the white shirt.” 

Tony stilled, arrested in the middle of delivering a flirty rejoinder.

“You know, you really are something else Cap. There’s no games with you, is there? You say it exactly as you mean it. No dissembling, no subtle grasp at power, no wait three hours before you respond to a text… you’re just ready to give. Just like that.” 

To his consternation, Steve felt his cheeks heat up at the assessment. “Is that a problem?”

“Is that a problem? No it’s not a problem.” Tony looked away, back through the open door. “The thing is I’m not very good at this Steve. I’ve never lacked for company but I’ve also never let anyone in before. There’s usually a convention to these things, copious sex, the will he? won’t she? routine, the expectations, then the inevitable disappointment when they realize all this doesn’t happen by itself. It takes my time and plenty of it. Then there’s the press, the constant media barrage, my time -”

Steve settled his hands on Tony’s waist, thumbs stroking across his ribs.

“Hey,” he waited for Tony to look at him again. “So that escalated quickly.”

Tony laughed, a hollow sound Steve didn’t like. “I know I can be a lot. I mean look at us we’re having the ‘where are we going?’ talk and we haven’t even started. But there’s something about you Steve Rogers, I want to- I need to get this right.” 

Steve felt his heart race, a heady sweetness mixing into his blood. 

“Then we will get this right together.” He let the Brooklyn slip into his voice, “I’m just a simple guy Tony, and you, well you are Tony Stark, my ma would say I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

Tony laughed at his aw shucks routine. “You are a menace Steve. You know all my buttons and all I’ve got in my arsenal are white shirts.”

“Hey don’t undersell the white shirts. White shirts are the Excalibur of the la moda, powerful stuff.”

“Is that right?”

“I suspect -” Steve stepped back with an appreciative gaze sweeping over Tony. “that you know exactly what you look like in them and are well aware of the impact it has on me. Would you have me spell it out for you?” _ The infernal blush, would it never die? _ Swallowing down the arousal that was becoming an ever present companion, Steve busied himself grabbing his water and clothes from the bench. 

Hands back in his pockets, Tony rocked back on his heels, a sly smile playing about his lips. “Well I can make an educated guess from that blush,” he said as he followed him into the lift. “By the way are you gymming in your boxers? Not that I don’t approve, -” 

Steve chuckled, “I’ve asked Bucky to bring me an overnight bag, but I had to make do with what I had. Maybe I can borrow a clean shirt for dinner?”

“You can help yourself to anything in my closet.” His smile widened. “Coincidentally, the other door in your room opens to my joint en suite.”

Steve gave him a considering look as he stood next to him, hands close enough to touch. “Coincidentally huh?”

Before Tony could say anything, the door opened to the penthouse common area and Pepper stepped in, her black heels clicking on the marble floor.

With a guilty look, Steve took a step away.

“Boys.” 

“Pepper.”

“Ms. Potts.”

“Really Steve, you’re in your boxers, you can call me Pepper.” Her smile was quick and sharp, “I knew you moved fast Tony but this has got to be a record.” 

“Pepper this isn’t what it looks like -” Steve protested as Tony spoke over him.

“It was all him Pep, it was the captain in the gym with the massive do--”

Pepper laughed at Steve’s mortification and interrupted Tony. “You can give me all the juicy details later. Steve dinner in thirty? I’ve asked Natasha to join us. Tony you owe me half hour signatory duty.” With a small wave at Steve, she pulled Tony along with her, the snippets of their conversation fading as they walked down the corridor.

“You asked Natasha to dinner? Pep she’s scary and she doesn’t like me.” 

“She likes you just fine.Just try not to annoy her when she has a steak knife in her hand.”

“Be honest Pep. Is this the revolution of the hot red-heads I predicted in 2002? Is there a membership? Is Amy Adams on the list or Christina what’s her name the one with the big -”

Steve was still laughing to himself as he stepped into the shower. _ Iron Monger, murder, conspiracy _he recited to himself trying to shake the temptation to draw love hearts around Tony’s initials in the steamed glass door. 

_ You’ve got it bad Rogers. _

Resting his forehead against the cool tiles, he let the hot water sluice off his back, for once giving in to the temptation to just enjoy the champagne pop fizzle coursing through his blood.

\--

Steve had spent time catching up on his emails and was late to dinner. The lighting had been dimmed and someone had lit the candles in the center of the table. The skyline of Manhattan glittered through the bank of windows. The table was set with kintsugi porcelain dinnerware and matching cutlery and to Steve’s amusement baskets of burgers and fries from the Portuguese burger place Tony favored. 

“Bruce that’s blasphemy - Beyond Meat is not exactly like real meat. It’s disgusting is what it is.” Tony was poking at the wrapped burger on Bruce’s plate with his fork, a look of grave doubt on his face.

“I have to agree with Stark, Bruce.” Natasha said, delicately taking a bite of her chicken burger.

Peter was looking at Natasha like he had never seen a woman before, his mouth slightly agape. Clint closed it for him, snickering in amusement. “Don’t fall for the girl next door act Parker, Nat eats boys like you for breakfast.”

“I resent that Barton. I’m harmless.” 

Steve slid into the empty spot between Tony and Pepper.

“I’d listen to Clint, Peter. Her list of broken hearts is almost as long as her case wins,” Steve said into the ensuing laughter.

“Glad you could join us Steve.” Natasha said with a deadly glint in her eyes. “After all Tony saved you a seat. Specifically for you. Right next to him. That’s interesting, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s only because he’s afraid of you Natasha.” Bruce said smiling.

“You’re a good bro Bruce. This is why you’re my favorite.” 

“But also because he’s partial to the good detective’s charms,” Bruce grinned into his glass of water. 

“I feel attacked. Pepper I blame you. I demand the alliance of hot red-heads be disbanded immediately.” 

“I’ll be sure to add it as an agenda item Mr Stark.” Pepper said, sotto voce.

Peter unwrapped one of the Beyond Meat burgers, dismantling it to expose the patty. “What I was saying is that they use soy leghemoglobin to produce the meat flavor, that’s where they are going wrong. If you used a buckwheat extract -”

“Yes that could work, the tri-chains in that heme make-up could work better.” Bruce agreed, eyeing his own burger.

“We’d need to modify the fabricator but maybe...,” Tony speared the patty on his fork lifting it up, “Jarvis could you download the whitepaper for Beyond Meat to my server. We may have to increase our shareholding to get a hold of - ”

Pepper interrupted him. “Jarvis belay that order, Tony knows there is no science allowed at the dinner table. Bruce don’t encourage him, we can’t have Tony buying you another company on an offhand comment.”

“That was one time Pepper, one time -” 

Steve joined in the laughter, but there was a small lurch in the back of his mind. A disjoint, between the case ready alertness he felt and the bonhomie and festivity that had settled over the dinner table. 

“Don’t think about it too much Steve.” Conversation had split up into groups and Steve found Tony looking at him with a knowing quirk to his mouth. “We’ve got to take the moments for what they are, one of the many useful things I learned because of this.” he said tapping the arc reactor. 

Steve leaned in so as not to be overheard, “I was only thinking on how you bought Bruce a company. How well do you know him again?” 

“Jealous Cap is my favorite.” Tony gave him a slant eyed look but let his deflection pass. 

“Sir, front desk are asking if a James Buchanan Barnes is expected?” Jarvis’s voice filtered over the chatter.

“That would be Bucky bringing me my bag.” Steve could feel Natasha’s sharp gaze on him.

Clint whistled under his breath, “This should be interesting.”

“J get them to send him straight up please. What am I missing?” Tony asked looking between Natasha and Steve. 

“Natasha and Bucky… have history.” Steve held his hands up in apology to a frowning Natasha.

“Ancient. Irrelevant.” Natasha’s red painted fingernails were tracing a path through the condensation on her bottle of beer, eyes narrowed in challenge.

“Okay so that’s a topic that gets you on the naughty list. Noted for future reference.” Tony tipped his own bottle at her. 

Bucky walked into an expectant silence, Steve’s old khaki rucksack slung over one shoulder. He wore black jeans with a black tee, the left cuff ripped off to expose the gleaming metal of his prosthetic arm, a red star printed on the metal bicep. 

“Come eat Buck,” Clint called him over and the silence was broken as plates and chairs were moved around. Bucky’s stance went from open and relaxed to a state of heightened alertness in the second it took to note Natasha’s unmistakable red hair.

“It occurred to me to worry about your irresponsibly good looking gypsy of a bestie, but it’s quite clear that wind blows only in one direction.” Tony whispered to Steve. 

“Just watch the fireworks. For two very smart people, they are incredibly dumb.” Steve whispered back. Bucky sat down next to Clint stealing a quick glance at Natasha who had found something absolutely fascinating to talk to Bruce about. 

“To everyone who hasn’t met him, this is the former Sergeant James Barnes and current proud proprietor of the fine establishment of Bucky’s Bar. Buck, you’ve met almost everyone, the guy that looks like Stark’s son is Peter Parker and this is the lovely Pepper Potts.”

“First off Barton, I don’t look remotely old enough to be a dad. But if I did have a son, he would totally be Peter.” Tony leaned over to fist bump Peter who was grinning at him. “Welcome Barnes, mi casa etc etc.”

“This is a nice joint you’ve got here. I figured if Barton was on a stakeout and not whining in the group chat, something had to be up. Hope you’re getting your money’s worth out of my boys for your trouble Stark.”

Clint smirked, “You could say Stark was getting his pound of flesh alright.” 

Steve felt his face flame red. 

“Stevie, something I should know?”

“Shut up Clint,” Steve said good-naturedly, throwing a fry at Clint. “Thanks for bringing my stuff over Buck. Looks like we’ll be on lock down here a few days longer than I had anticipated.”

“Yeah I saw the news came through about the car bomb.” 

_ It felt like a lifetime ago. _

Bucky shot him a worried look. “Also, I got a call from Gabe this morning.” 

Steve sat forward in interest as did Natasha. Gabe was a member of the Howling Commandos, the elite unit Steve and Bucky had been posted with during the mission that took Bucky’s arm. 

“He said Ross’s crew have been around, asking about you. Asking about me.” 

Natasha frowned a deep furrow appearing between her eyes. “I have an appointment in my calendar tomorrow to meet with General Ross and Secretary Pierce. The timing is not a coincidence.” She looked at Bucky. “What did they want to know?”

“What we’ve been up to since we’ve been off commission. What Stevie’s position on the PD was, whether we were still loyal to the flag.” Bucky propped arm on the table, hand clenched into a metal fist. “How well Stevie knows Stark… whether I was still seeing the DA.” 

“That’s very ham-handed surveillance.” Tony said looking at Steve. 

“Or they wanted us to know.” Steve’s voice was quiet. “Feels like lines are being drawn in the sand.” 

“Recruitment or leverage?” Tony wondered. 

Clint rubbed his jaw in thought. “If it is actually elements of the Pentagon involved, I’d say we’re well and truly fucked.”

“You have a way with words Barton. But I don’t disagree.” Tony said tapping his bottle of beer in thought. “I’m also thinking Natasha, offer still stands. You’re on their radar. Will you stay here? We lose you, we lose our chance at taking this to trial.”

Natasha was shaking her head but didn’t voice a denial. 

Bucky was looking at Natasha, eyebrows furrowed, mouth flattened. “Who’s your security detail or have you decided you don’t need one like usual?”

“Stark is being melodramatic, I don’t need one.”

“They put a bomb in Stark’s car. What do you think they’re going to do to you? Buy you flowers?”

“I can take care of myself, do not concern yourself.” Natasha’s voice was cold as she shot Bucky a glare before turning to Tony. ‘But I will take you up on your offer Stark. Thank you. I suggest we reconvene in the morning, I’ll be interested to sit in on Peter and Bruce’s debrief as well.”

The air of congeniality that had settled over the table had dissipated. Dinner was finished in quick succession, leaving Tony and Steve at the table with Bucky, nursing a final drink.

“Stark if I can ask a favor-’

“No problems Barnes. There’s plenty of room.”

Bucky looked a bit sheepish. “Am I that obvious?”

Steve gripped his shoulder, as he walked around him, gathering up the plates to leave them stacked on the counter for Tony’s cleaners.

“All I will say is, be prepared to have your ass handed to you Buck. Nat won’t take anyone hovering over her, least of all you.”

Tony watched the exchange in amusement. “So let me get this straight, you and Natasha have been dancing around each other like a modern day Benedick and Beatrice for six years and you want her to now take it in stride when you appoint yourself as her bodyguard?” At Bucky’s morose grimace, he chuckled. “Hey don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for a good love story, but I am with Steve on this. She’s going to hand your ass to you, that is not a woman I would cross.”

There’s no love story.” Bucky made a frustrated slashing motion with his arm. “Damn woman is obstinate. If she took security detail like any normal prosecutor who’s on the line, I wouldn’t have to do this.” 

“This isn’t his first time,” Steve informed Tony, “Makes a habit of standing vigil outside her house, cramped into his Mustang more times than I can count.” 

Bucky looked miserable and Steve took pity on him. “Go talk to her. Whatever your intentions, if she decides you’ve doubted her ability to take care of herself, that’s a fracture you won’t be able to get her to see past.” 

Tony sat back in his chair. “If it’s helpful, tell her I asked, additional detail is always welcome.”

Tony shared a long look with Steve as Bucky left, “He’s got the tortured Heathcliff look down pat. Also are they actually blind?”

“What can I say?” Steve smiled at him, “Love makes people crazy.”

He handed Tony another cold beer. “Will you join me for a bit?” He asked tilting his head in the direction of the couch in the sunken seating area.

\--

Tony had instructed Jarvis to switch the lights off and Steve’s eyes slowly adjusted to the reflective glow of the city lights. They were quiet for a few moments, enjoying the view, knees touching.

“It feels surreal doesn’t it?” Steve asked contemplatively. “There’s a big world out there, trouble around every corner for the foreseeable future and here in the midst of it all, it feels so peaceful.”

Tony hummed in agreement. The reflection of the arc reactor’s faint blue light threw his eyes into deep shadow, highlighting the ridges of his cheekbones. There was an otherworldly quality to him that became more apparent in the shadows and vectors of night lights. An easing in the way he held himself. Steve had a startlingly clear thought. _ He holds himself in check, always. _

It couldn’t be easy, to always be the different one. Tony was charismatic, caustically witty, a practiced savant in the arts of holding court over public opinion. But Steve guessed the veneer for the deflection it was. A clear misdirection from an uncomfortably towering intellect and a heart that was a little softer than was allowed when your consequence made you public property.

“You’re staring.” 

“I was just thinking, I’d like to draw you one day, if you’d let me?”

“You’re an artist?” He asked, getting up to stand by the window, a sharp silhouette against the violet spectrum of the New York night.

“Hardly. Didn’t have money for art school. The army felt like a way to utilize my time wisely. We didn’t always get it right Tony, but some of the work we did out there, it really helped.” He let the memories of dust and heat recede. “And I guess it stuck, the need to help, to make the world just a little safer. So no, not an artist, the drawing was always a hobby, it was therapy for a while too and now I don’t really get time for it.”

“I’d like that.” Tony was quiet. But there was a change in his stance, like a spring had coiled tight through his center. Steve ran back over his words, wondering if it was something he had said. Tony stalked back to the sofa and sat down on the edge, elbows resting on his knees, his back taut. 

“I was not someone I liked for a long time Steve. I inherited a company that was an essential cog in the machine of war and I did little to question what it was we were doing. I had all the time to build and create whatever I chose. Pentagon ate it up, SI shares skyrocketed quarter on quarter and I was surrounded by a lot of people who said yes and never once did I stop and look beyond the next schema, the next drug fueled high. Then Afghanistan happened.” 

He looked back at Steve, eyes liquid with memory. “When Yinsen died, taking the fire that was meant for me, that was my first close hand experience with death. When I saw it was an SI semi-automatic that had taken him out something changed inside. I couldn’t unsee it, the sequence of interwoven links that drew a straight line from his blood to my hands.”

Steve stayed still, despite the temptation to offer comfort.

“When I came back home, there was just one thought in my mind. I had to make my life worthy of his sacrifice.” He stood, holding his hand out to Steve. “Will you come with me? I want to show you something.”

There was a resolution in Tony’s voice, a line he was crossing mentally. Taking his hand, Steve stood to follow, the hairs on his neck prickling once more as he remembered Clint’s words. _ It’s going to get a little crazier before all this ends. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment. I love hearing feedback :)
> 
> I actually like Beyond Meat - please don't sue me, Tony's opinions are always his own.  
Benedick and Beatrice is a reference to the Shakespearean play "Much Ado About Nothing".


End file.
